


A Little Less Talking

by Pax_2735



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hidden Relationship, Jon is in a band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pax_2735/pseuds/Pax_2735
Summary: With Jon's big night coming up, he needs some advice on how to get ex-girlfriend Dany off his back for good. He should have known that asking the Starks for help was not the way to go about it...
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 38
Kudos: 232





	A Little Less Talking

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses when I say I don't really know what this is. It started out as a drabble about Arya meddling her way into a fake relationship between Jon and Sansa and somehow I ended up with this *shrugs*
> 
> As always, I own nothing except the mistakes.

Jon leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting against his knees, fingers crossed together in front of his face as he lets his eyes wander over the Starks scattered around the massive living room. He wants to think he’s patiently waiting for their reaction but his jaw is clenched and his muscles are all bunched up and he can feel the beginnings of a pinching ache between his brows from where he’s been frowning for the past fifteen minutes so… yeah, maybe ‘patiently’ isn’t the right word.

But really, can he be blamed? When the awards show is coming up fast and Dany’s texts have steadily grown from playful hints to downright menacing as the time draws near and he really needs some help as to how to deal with the whole situation without having it all blowing up in his face. Which is why he’s here now, telling the Starks all about the whole sad affair and waiting for some reaction that includes more than just the incredulous stares he’s been getting since he stopped talking.

He’d met Dany just as the band had hit big and, at first, things had been great. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight – he’s man enough to admit the initial pull had more to do with the awe of having world famous actress and renowned beauty Daenerys Targaryen be interested in him than anything else – but they’d hit it off pretty well. But ten months and countless fights later he had finally had enough and he’d broken things off for good.

Or so he had thought. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten the memo where it was clearly stated _no one_ left Daenerys.

“I’m sorry,” Robb’s voice cuts into his thoughts, “but I fail to see your problem.” There’s a skeptical look in Robb’s handsome features and Jon sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. Which doesn’t deter Robb, not in the slightest. “You have a beautiful woman –“

“One he dumped,” Arya quips and Jon raises his eyes to see Sansa giving Robb an incredulous look of her own.

“—who wants to get back into your pants and you want our help to do… what exactly? Give you pointers? Cause I could, you know. I definitely could,” he grins, and Jon feels somewhat validated when both girls let out a disgusted groan at their brother’s antics.

“I think you’ve been hanging around Theon for way too long.”

“Gross, Robbert. Just gross,” Arya tuts and Robb looks like he’s two seconds away from giving her the finger.

“What I want,” Jon intervenes, before this whole conversation goes careening off track into a hearty discussion about brothers, pigs and the ineptitude of men in general, “no, actually, what I _need_ are ideas about how to deflect Dany’s advances and get her to back off without causing a major scene during what could potentially be one of the biggest nights of my life.” He shoots Robb a murderous look. “Ones that don’t include letting her back into my pants.”

“Well, those are some nice pants.” Jon’s head turns so fast he’s sure his neck is gonna be screaming about it later, just in time to see Sansa’s eyes finishing up her appraisal of said pants before giving him a wink, and he gulps.

Ok, so maybe the timing of his break up with Dany and the return of a certain red haired friend had been a bit more than a mere coincidence.

Arya is looking up at him with a serious expression, apparently pondering his current predicament, and he’s grateful that at least someone seems to be, before she snaps her fingers suddenly and points at him. “What you need is a new girlfriend.”

Jon looks at her as though she’s suddenly grown another head. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“I think ‘human shield’ is the expression you’re looking for,” a still smirking Robb adds.

Arya scowls and Jon is torn between smiling at her exasperation or frowning with his own but, after seeing the way Sansa is quirking a brow at her sister, the smile wins. At least he’s not alone in thinking this is a dumb ass idea.

“Shut up Robb,” she fires back without missing a beat, before she turns back to Jon. “Don’t be thick and just try to follow ok?” Arya jumps from the couch and begins pacing the den as though she’s a lion stalking her prey. Or a wolf. Something wild, definitely, judging by the look in her eyes. “Dany keeps trying to get back together because she thinks she still has a chance, which is entirely your fault because, let’s face it, your communication skills suck. But…” she turns abruptly, her arm stretched out with a finger pointing accusingly at Jon and he cringes, “… if you rub it in that there’s no chance in any of the seven hells, then maybe she’ll get the hint and leave you alone.” She stops pacing, her eyes darting around the room as though she’s expecting someone to applaud.

“I doubt it’ll work.” Robb’s voice is somber for once, his hand rubbing absently over his beard. “She’s much too tenacious for that,” he adds, and Arya snorts at his choice of words. Robb’s eyes are twinkling with amusement despite his serious look and Jon dreads to hear the rest of it. “It would be a riot to watch though.”

“I asked you guys for help.” He sighs in annoyance. “This isn’t helping.”

“Actually,” Sansa’s voice breaks through and Jon tries – and fails – to not perk up at the sound, “Arya might have a point there.”

Jon arches a brow at her, and does his best to ignore the longing he’s sure must be etched across his face as he twists in his seat to look at her. “Seriously?”

“Let’s think this through shall we?” She stares at him, her blue eyes locking him in place and he nods tersely. He doesn’t want to listen to this – any of this, really, since he remembers quite well the stunning outcome of some of what passes as a plan in Arya’s mind – but it can’t hurt to listen before he says no right? Just so he can make an informed decision.

Nothing to do with the sound of Sansa’s voice or the way her face lights up as she speaks or how she bites her lip as she’s thinking things through. Absolutely nothing to do with any of it.

Sansa nods, looking over to Robb, who is still looking far too amused by his predicament, before her eyes land on her sister. The two share a conspiratorial smile and Jon feels a shiver go up his spine, like a sacrificial lamb waiting his turn.

“Daenerys has built her whole career on her good girl image right? Girl next door, wide-eyed and innocent and all that crap.” Sansa turns her attention back to him and Jon nods. “So, I’ll be willing to bet money the last thing she wants is to destroy that wholesome image because of a man.” She cringes before giving him a small smile. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he quickly replies, although if he’s being honest, there might have been the slightest bit.

“Exactly. It’s not gonna look good on her if she’s seen trying to break up her ex and his newly found love-of-his-life. There’s no way she’ll take that big of a risk because of some random guy.” Arya is smiling like the proverbial cat that ate the canary and Jon cocks an eyebrow at her. “No offense.”

“I’m beginning to feel like taking offense,” Jon starts, but is quite rudely interrupted when Robb decides to pipe in.

“This is the lamest, most bullshit idea I’ve ever heard,” he says, and his face splits up into a grin as he rubs his hands together. “I can’t wait to see it.”

“Even if that could work,” Jon begins, shooting Robb a dirty look for good measure, “and I seriously doubt it would, but even if. I don’t have one. And I’m not gonna pick up some random girl to try to get Dany off my back.” He gives Sansa what he hopes is a subtle look. He knows she’d never think that of him but hey, it can’t hurt to check.

“Well, obviously it can’t be just some random girl,” Arya shoots back, looking at him like he’s dense and Jon narrows his eyes at the implied insult, “the whole point is that it has to be believable.”

“It needs to be someone that knows the truth. We don’t wanna trick some poor girl into thinking this is something it isn’t,” Sansa adds with a concerned tone, and Jon smiles fondly at her. Even when plotting, she’s still sweet and concerned about others.

“And where are we going to find this magical, mythical creature? _Schemers’r’us_?”

Sansa lets out an exasperated sigh. “Robb, you’re not helping.”

Jon shakes his head at his best friend. “No man, you’re really not.”

Robb splutters. “Well excuse me for pointing out the very obvious flaws—“

“I know where. Sansa.” Three pairs of confused eyes turn to look at Arya, who is back to sitting on the arm of the couch looking pleased as punch.

“What did I do?”

Arya looks at her like a general imparting his orders. “It’s what you _can_ do that matters now. You—“she points another dramatic finger at her sister and Sansa sits up straighter in her chair and narrows her eyes, “—can be Jon’s girlfriend.”

The silence that follows is so thick Jon can swear he hears the ticking of the clock hanging in the Starks’ kitchen three doors down. He’s dumbstruck and there’s a lump in his throat he knows he should be trying to swallow but his mouth feels drier than the desert right now and for once, even Robb doesn’t seem to know what to say.

But Sansa sure does. “Have you been drinking? Or are you just completely out of your fucking mind?” Her cheeks are flushed bright red and Jon can see her chest heaving as she takes a big deep breath. She looks like she’s about to continue her tirade and explain to the world (or the three of them, as it is) exactly _why_ this idea in particular ranks number one in the history of dumb as fuck ideas, and Jon doesn’t really want to hear any of it. He knows why – at least he’s told himself that on plenty of different occasions, all the while trying to justify to himself why he never did anything about this attraction without having to admit to being a fucking coward – but he really doesn’t want to listen to her say it.

But it’s Arya to the rescue and it’s frankly quite possibly the first time he’s happy to hear her say anything since this whole conversation began.

“You’re perfect for it,” she says, sticking up her fingers to number her reasons and completely ignoring Sansa’s look of annoyance at being interrupted while at the same time throwing a pillow at Robb to wipe away his satisfied smirk, and Jon can’t help but be a little impressed at the way she multitasks. She ticks one finger, “You know the truth so there’s no risk of things getting confusing and downright messy,” ticks off another, “the two of you have known each other forever so there’s no possible reason why anyone would think this is a sudden thing and get suspicious,” one more finger, “you two are comfortable enough together to pull off the whole we’re-madly-in-love-and-definitely-sleeping-together vibe which, granted, could be awkward with someone whom you’ve just met.” She puts her hand down and shrugs casually. “Plus, Dany never liked you so it’s gonna make her extra pissed, which is always a bonus.”

“Dany doesn’t like me? I was always nice to her.”

Jon clears his throat uncomfortably, remembering the few occasions Sansa and Dany had met. There are a lot of words to describe those interactions but nice… doesn’t quite make it into the top hundred.

Sansa snaps her head to look at him with an indignant look. “I was!”

“Sure you were sweetie,” he answers while patting her knee reassuringly, and then grins when she huffs in annoyance.

“I can see where you’re going with this,” Robb adds while peeling the label off his beer bottle, “and I can see it working, sort of. But Sansa’s just been back from Essos for three months. How are you gonna work that into the story?”

“Easy.” Arya’s tone is nonchalant as she reaches for her previously discarded soda. “Sansa came back to Westeros roughly at the same time shit hit the fan with Jon and Dany. The two of them bonded over their miseries—“

“I’m sorry, _our_ _miseries_?” Sansa interrupts but Arya doesn’t pay her any attention.

“—one thing lead to another until they eventually realized what was right in front of them and, bam! Feelings galore, with a whole lot of good sex thrown in for good measure.”

Jon chokes on his beer, his body lurching forward as he tries to cough out everything that just went down the wrong hole. He risks a glance at Sansa, who seems to be having a hard time deciding between looking rightfully indignant or simply murdering her little sister with the nearest pillow. Amidst her indecision, Jon thinks he really likes the shade of dark pink that seems to have permanently stained her skin, even if the opening and closing of her mouth like a fish might not be her absolute best look. She’s still lovely though, no mistake there.

He’s startled out of that particular train of thought when Sansa snaps her mouth shut with an audible _clack_ before she turns icy blue eyes on him. “Don’t you have anything to say about this?”

“That’s… crazy?” he coughs when he realizes that came out sounding so much more like a question than he intended it to be before he tries again, with hopefully a bit more confidence. “Yeah, that’s crazy.” Sansa is still looking at him with a frown and he shrugs, not really knowing what else to say. It is crazy, sort of, but also… not, and he can’t really make up his mind at which is worse at the moment.

“I could buy that,” Robb quips, and Jon is torn between thanking him or beating the shit out of him. Probably a little bit of both. “As long as Sansa doesn’t mind being on the front cover of every magazine from here to kingdom come for the next few weeks. You know the press is gonna have a field day with this.”

Sansa shudders slightly but before Jon can think of anything to say she stands up. “I’m gonna have to think about this for a while.”

“You can’t take too long. That thing is only a couple of weeks away and you’re gonna need time to decide what to wear.”

Sansa extends a hand towards Jon and he takes it without thinking. “You mind giving me a lift home? We can talk about it some more on the way without any unwarranted opinions,” she says, narrowing her eyes at her sister.

“Hey, he came to _me_ for help,” Arya shoots back just as Jon stands and starts following Sansa outside without a backwards glance.

***

Her fingers are spearing through his curls, tugging almost painfully as though she doesn’t know whether to pull him closer or push him away entirely. He continues relentlessly, the tip of his tongue tracing swirls against her clit as two of his fingers are pumping in and out of her, and her whole body shudders before she lets out a long, low moan of his name and breaks apart underneath him.

He doesn’t let out, still licking at her skin, drawing out every bit of pleasure until she sighs and tugs at his hair more forcefully. He knows the sign, knows that after two straight orgasms she needs a little bit of a cuddle and some time to recover. He kisses the inside of her thigh before he moves up, his lips tracing her hipbone before settling just above her navel. He knows there’s a smug grin across his face but he can’t help himself, not when she’s lying underneath him, happy and sated and completely boneless, with her eyes shining and a smile curving her lips.

If there’s one thing that he’s good at in his life, he’s glad it’s at making her this happy.

Her fingers lightly trace his jaw and he turns his head slightly to kiss the tips, nuzzling against her palm. Her smile blossoms as her other hand comes up to push back his dampened curls, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. “You think they know?”

He drops his chin back against her belly and smirks as she squirms slightly when his beard tickles her, before taking on a more serious expression. “How could they? We’ve been careful.”

She lets out a sigh before she answers him. “What Arya said… that was awfully close to the way things happened.”

“That was exactly the way things happened,” he replies, his breath spanning against her sensitive skin, his fingers leaving the softness of her thighs to trace gentle patterns against the goosebumps in front of him.

She gives his hair a gentle tug and his grey eyes look up to lock with hers. “My point exactly.”

His hands come up to her sides, pushing his weight against the bed as he lifts his head and lets his tongue start tracing his way up. She squirms again when he reaches her ribcage and rubs his beard against her skin, laughter bubbling from her kiss swollen lips and he looks up to give her a smile of his own. There’s nothing he loves more than the sound of her laughter.

His head nuzzles between her breasts before he moves it to the side, his teeth pulling her bra cup down to reveal a dusky nipple. He takes the pebbled bud between his teeth, his tongue licking over the tip before his lips close around it. She lets out a long moan that sounds suspiciously like his name and maybe he was wrong before. _That_ is definitely the sound he loves more than anything else on this earth.

His mouth moves to her other breast and she arches her back, her hands tugging his curls to push him firmly against her chest, like she’s trying to prevent him from escaping. Like there’s anywhere else in the world he’d rather be, like he wouldn’t kill to stay here for the rest of his days.

He leaves her breast and she whines pitifully at the loss, but he’s too busy nipping and kissing across her collarbone and up to her neck to smirk at her. He’s still fully dressed when he settles firmly between her thighs, her hands dipping beneath his shirt to rake blunt nails against his back, her long creamy legs wrapping around his waist as she grinds against his jean clad cock, making him moan against her ear.

He can feel her smirk against his skin and he nips gently on her earlobe before sucking at the sensitive skin beneath it. It’s gonna leave a mark come morning, but right now he couldn’t care less and from the way she’s writhing beneath him he bets she doesn’t either.

“Would it be so bad? If they knew?” He pulls back to look into her eyes, smiling at the way her dilated pupils struggle to focus on him. Her breath is sweet as it ghosts across his lips, her pink tongue coming out to moisten her own and he growls, moving towards her.

She puts a finger against his mouth to stop him before he can even begin to kiss her. “Whose idea was it, to keep this between ourselves?” she asks, a raised brow to drive her point across.

He groans, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. “Not from your family. I meant from the rest of the world.”

“And how long do you think it’s gonna take for the rest of the world to catch on if we start making exceptions?”

“Well,” he starts, using his elbows to keep himself from crushing her so he can trace his fingertips over her face, “if you’re gonna be my fake girlfriend for the awards show, everyone’s gonna know anyway.” He shrugs casually, an impish grin settling over his face and she laughs at his boyish antics before giving him a playful shove.

“Fake girlfriend…” she mutters and he takes the opportunity to dip down and finally take her lips in a hungry kiss.

Kissing Sansa is like nothing he’s ever experienced before and even though they’ve only been doing this for barely three months he’s pretty sure he’s already addicted. She bites into his bottom lip and he opens his mouth to lick inside of hers, his tongue gliding against hers in an erotic dance.

Sansa pushes against him and he rolls over, his hands finding their way into her fiery tresses to keep her lips against his as he brings her on top of his body. When she pulls back they’re both panting, and she smiles before dipping her head down to rain tiny kisses and gentle bites all over his neck.

“Just so we’re clear,” she mumbles against his skin, “we didn’t commiserate over _our_ miseries – that word is entirely unwarranted. You’re the one who’s miserable.” She pulls back slightly and Jon can feel her smiling. “It’s why you write all those sad, depressing songs.”

“I’m thinking my songs might be up for a change of pace,” he answers, and she laughs against his throat, a warm puff of breath igniting his skin, his hands skimming down her back to settle over her ass and pull her closer to where he’s rock hard for her.

Sansa moans and grinds down on him, moving back up to his lips and for a few moments their conversation is forgotten and they lose themselves in the feel of each other. When she pulls back from his mouth Jon whines, his head lifting from the pillow to try and chase them back and she smirks, keeping herself just out of reach, her lips hovering over his but never quite touching.

It’s maddening, really, and he retaliates by letting one of his hands slip further down, teasing her folds with a barely there touch. The smirk is gone in a second and he tastes her breathy _Jon_ against his lips, sees her eyes darkening further as her body shudders and he’s struck again by how incredibly _stunning_ she is.

“If we’re going to do this…” she whispers and he stops, waiting to hear what she has to say. Because Robb is right about one thing - this is a big deal, and it’s going to mess up her life and he wishes he could protect her from all of it, but he can’t, there’s nothing he can do about it and he needs to know that she’s sure, needs to know if this is really what she wants and whether or not she’s going to regret this down the line. Whether or not she’s going to regret _them_.

Because he can take everything else, but he’s not sure he can take that.

Sansa seems to sense that his mind is spiraling somehow and she kisses him again, a gentle, soft brushing of lips that quiets his mind and brings him back to her. When she pulls back to look at him her eyes are shinning and there’s a playful smile teasing her well kissed lips. “As I was saying…” she starts again and he smiles back, only because she makes him so fucking happy, “if we’re going to do this, there’s only one thing that we need to be concerned about right now and Arya was damn right about it, not that I’ll ever tell her that.” He quips a brow at her in question and she huffs back in mock annoyance. “I’m gonna need to figure out what to wear.”

He laughs, and after a second she breaks and laughs with him, her head dropping down to nestle sweetly against the crook of his neck, in the spot she claims belongs to her. And then he pulls her lips back to his for another melting kiss and that’s it.

It’s settled then.

***

_Meanwhile, back at the wolf’s den…_

Robb sprawls over the couch, legs splayed open, an arm thrown over the back of it, his other hand nursing a beer like he has no care in this world. Only his eyes give him away, shrewdly looking upon his sister who is looking far too pleased with herself.

“You’re looking very pleased with yourself.”

Arya grins at him as she takes a pull from the beer she’s switched to now that all the scheming seems to be over and done with. “That’s because I’m a fucking genius even if none of you recognizes my brilliancy.”

Robb raises an amused brow at her. “And so modest too. Can I ask, what’s your investment in this situation? What are you hoping to gain from all of this?”

“Bragging rights for eternity, for starters,” she quips immediately, still grinning like a madman and, if possible, Robb’s eyebrows shoot even higher.

“For getting Jon a fake girlfriend to help him get rid of his old one? Hardly seems worth it.”

“Oh please,” Arya scoffs, waving a hand carelessly around, “I couldn’t care less about that.” She leans forward casually, letting her arms rest against her knees. “See, I actually like Daenerys. I don’t think she’s necessarily right for Jon but… she’s really fun to be around and if he has a problem with her he can just sort it out himself like the big boy he’s supposed to be.”

“You’re losing me here.”

Arya rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh of irritation and Robb swears she couldn’t call him an idiot any more explicitly without using the actual words. “I may not think Daenerys is right for Jon but –“ she makes a dramatic pause to raise a finger in the air and it’s Robb’s turn to roll his eyes at her over the top ways – “I happen to _know_ Sansa is just perfect. And,” she narrows her eyes as though daring him to disagree, “even more importantly, I know Jon would be perfect for Sansa.”

Robb lets the silence following her dramatic speech stretch for a few moments and keeps a serious face as though he’s giving this some serious thought. He takes a long pull from his beer and then frowns like he’s just come to a conclusion and it’s nothing like Arya’s. “So you think that getting them to pretend to be together will… give them a push in the right direction?”

“As if,” Arya snorts.

“Ok Alicia, mind dumbing it down for those of us in the audience who don’t share your amazing intelligence?”

Arya shoots him a dirty look, a clear sign her patience is wearing thin and Robb hides his smirk behind his beer. She lets out a frustrated grunt before shooting up from the couch to stand directly in front of him. “There’s no need to _push_ for anything. For god’s sake, have you seen the way they look at each other when they think no one’s watching? I’m surprised no one gets pregnant from just being in the same room.”

Robb scowls when he sees the way she’s now grinning at him, clearly mocking his discomfort. “Course I’ve seen it. I’m not fucking blind,” he mumbles.

“So, since you’re not blind, you can obviously see my plan is perfect. I’m just steering them in the right direction and, in the process, ensuring them both eternal happiness and bliss, which means they’ll stop mopping around and the rest of us don’t have to deal with their pining and longing looks any longer. All with absolute minimal effort and under the guise of helping out a friend, which I’m totally doing _as well_ , by the way, just not in the way he thinks. Flawless victory.” She bows down dramatically, like an artist at the end of a performance, and Robb gives her a one shoulder shrug.

“I’d applaud but my hands are busy,” he says casually, taking the beer bottle back to his lips.

“And mine should be as well ‘cause I need to write this shit down. It’s gonna make an amazing speech for their wedding.” She turns with finality, clearly done with the whole thing, and skips towards the stairs as Robb watches her go with mild interest.

Truth is, Jon and Sansa don’t really need any nudges or pushes or steering or _anything_ in any direction whatsoever, Robb knows. He doesn’t quite understand _what_ they’re doing exactly, why the secrecy and the sneaking around and why don’t they just admit that something is happening between them, but he knows that something is.

Because it’s hard to mistake what he saw in the driveway a few weeks back, when Jon had politely been helping Sansa out of her car before he very impolitely had pushed her against the door of said car and had proceed to kiss her in a way that would have made a lesser man turn tail to give them some privacy.

Robb had eventually done just that, but only after the image of Sansa’s hands making their way inside Jon’s back pockets to pull him closer and the way Jon’s hand had wound around her auburn tresses to deepen their kiss, the other having mysteriously disappeared behind Sansa’s back, had proven way, way too much for him. He really only has himself to blame, he knows, but… curiosity killed the cat and all that.

He wonders briefly if he should burst Arya’s bubble about this whole cock up of a plan of hers just yet and just let the two of them be but in the end decides against it. No harm will come of it and she’s right about one thing – it just might give them the nudge they need to come clean about what’s going on.

And in the end, this is gonna make an amazing speech for _him_ to give at their wedding.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [Pax_2735](https://pax-2735.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, if you want to come over and say hi


End file.
